


The Gallery

by steveharringtonkin



Series: The Gallery [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Art Shows, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, steve and jonathan are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveharringtonkin/pseuds/steveharringtonkin
Summary: Steve feels like he’s been orbiting around Jonathan for nearly a decade and tonight he’s the closest he’s ever gotten to the surface of the sun. He’s watching Jonathan move amongst a sea of his own photos and for the first time in his life, Steve feels like he really sees Jonathan. In front of him isn’t the poor boy from the broken home, or the tag along boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler, or any of the people he thinks Jonathan used to be. He’s not even sure this version of Jonathan is the same one he’s been working alongside for months. Instead of the shy, soft person Steve had come to know, Jonathan is self assured and confident, smiling and nodding in thanks when people praise his work. His cheeks have been red for most of the evening, the kind of flush that comes along when someone is living out a lifelong dream, but Steve figures he’s the only one who knows Jonathan well enough to notice it.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington
Series: The Gallery [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021029
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	The Gallery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jxnehxpper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxnehxpper/gifts).



Steve feels like he’s been orbiting around Jonathan for nearly a decade and tonight he’s the closest he’s ever gotten to the surface of the sun. He’s watching Jonathan move amongst a sea of his own photos and for the first time in his life, Steve feels like he really sees Jonathan. In front of him isn’t the poor boy from the broken home, or the tag along boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler, or any of the people he thinks Jonathan used to be. He’s not even sure this version of Jonathan is the same one he’s been working alongside for months. Instead of the shy, soft person Steve had come to know, Jonathan is self assured and confident, smiling and nodding in thanks when people praise his work. His cheeks have been red for most of the evening, the kind of flush that comes along when someone is living out a lifelong dream, but Steve figures he’s the only one who knows Jonathan well enough to notice it. 

Though Steve hadn’t expected his mother to leave the art gallery to him in her will when she’d passed away unexpectedly two years ago, he was grateful that she had entrusted her most precious belonging to him. He was only 24 at the time, and shit scared that he’d be the one to drive the gallery straight into the ground, but he’d moved to New York on his father’s dime anyways in hopes he might get it right. If the way the rooms were packed tonight were any indication, he wasn’t doing too badly, but Steve figured that was more about Jonathan’s talent than his own business sense. The other shows that he’d put on once he’d gotten his bearings in the city hadn’t been nearly as successful.

All of this was sheer dumb luck, a fact that still made Steve reel. It was purely coincidence that he’d seen Jonathan in that quiet bar in the West Village and gone up to him to ask if he could buy him a drink. Jonathan had been startled, clearly not expecting to see Steve, but recovered quickly and accepted the offer. They’d gotten to drinking and talking about how much Jonathan hated his go nowhere desk job at a small music journalism company, and Steve had happened to mention the reason he was living in the city now was because he’d come into possession of an art gallery. Jonathan hadn’t been able to hide his shock at the news, but Steve couldn’t blame him for it. He was a far cry from the person he was when he and Jonathan had fought monsters together, and Jonathan had changed so much himself that Steve almost hadn’t recognized him.

Though they’d both been pretty intoxicated by the end of the night, Steve had gotten Jonathan’s number and put him in a cab home with the promise that they’d see each other again sometime soon. Steve had ignored the way his stomach flipped when an obviously tipsy Jonathan had wrapped his arms around him for the briefest moment before falling into the cab, and went home to sleep off what he was sure was just an unforeseen side effect of too many drinks. 

Their chance meeting was nearly six months ago, and Steve had quickly gotten used to the way that his stomach filled with butterflies every time Jonathan smiled at him or laughed at a poorly timed joke. The feeling had become part of the territory ever since he’d called Jonathan and asked if he wanted to put on a show at Steve’s gallery. Jonathan had protested at first, claiming he wasn’t ready to fill an entire gallery space, and that it wouldn’t be fair since he and Steve already knew each other. He’d wanted to earn his first gallery show, so Steve had had him send his photos in to Steve’s assistant for review just as every artist he booked did. He’d told Jonathan he’d seen his fair share of performance art and abstract paintings in the last year, and that what the gallery really needed was a show put on by a talented photographer. It was nothing more than coincidence that he’d run into Jonathan when he had.

They’d spent nearly every day with each other since then, planning over coffee in the mornings before Jonathan had to go to work or in the evenings at the gallery once he was off. It had become routine and as glad as Steve was that the opening was finally here and going as well as it was, he found himself mourning the loss of an excuse for him to see Jonathan every day. 

He’s brought out of his reminiscing by a soft touch at his elbow, looking down to see Joyce smiling fondly up at him. Behind Jonathan’s back, he’d booked the entire Byers’ family tickets out to see the show, knowing Jonathan would want them there but wouldn’t be able to take on the cost of airfare on top of supporting his own life in New York. 

“Thank you again for making this happen for him,” Joyce says softly, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “And for letting us be here for it.”

Steve smiles back, nodding as he says, “He would’ve moped around for days without you guys.”

“You’re sure I can’t tell him it’s because of you that we’re here?” Joyce asks, and Steve feels a pang of guilt for making her lie to her son. 

“I don’t want credit, or… or anything like that,” Steve says, just as he has every time Joyce has asked him this question. “I just thought he’d want you here.”

“I think he already knows.”

“What?” Steve asks. “How?”

“He knows they don’t pay much at Melvald’s. Sure, I’ve picked up extra shifts now that Will and El are all grown up, but that money goes right back to bills. Jonathan’s never been naive,” she explains.

Steve nods, because he knows that more now than ever before. Jonathan is pragmatic to a point, never dwelling on things that can’t happen or pretending that his life is anything other than what it is. He’d told Steve about how badly he wished his family could see his show with the sort of resigned demeanor of a kid who knew Santa Claus wasn’t real and thus wouldn’t be able to make his dreams come true, and Steve just couldn’t stand the idea of Jonathan doing this without them. The very next day he’d called Joyce to arrange flights, under the condition that she wouldn’t tell Jonathan he had been the one to orchestrate the whole thing. 

“You can tell him,” he finally says.

“He’s so grateful to you, you know. He talks about you all the time when he calls.”

Steve feels alarmingly like he might cry as he says, “I know.”

He looks up again to find Jonathan already gazing in his direction and smiles, giving a little thumbs up. Jonathan returns it and goes back to mingling, but Steve still has the feeling he’s being watched. Glancing back down, he finds Joyce looking at him as if she knows all his secrets. He thinks it should feel overwhelming, but it’s more of a relief than anything else, since only Robin knew how he really felt about Jonathan. Or so he thought. 

“You should tell him tonight, honey,” Joyce says gently, and Steve fakes misunderstanding.

“That I booked the flights?”

“That you’re in love with him,” Joyce corrects. “He knows about the flights already, Steve. Somehow he doesn’t know how you feel.”

“How did you know?” Steve asks, too tired of pretending to keep up the charade.

“The way you look at him. All the things you’ve done for him,” Joyce explains, though she quickly stops and corrects herself. “All the things you’ve made him feel like he can do. I wasn’t sure if you just felt guilty about high school when he first told me about it, but now it’s… I think it’s clear to everyone but him.”

Steve laughs a little and closes his eyes as he pushes a hand back through his hair. “This is his night,” he says, trying to weasel his way out from under Joyce’s motherly scrutiny.

“And it will only get better if you tell him, sweetheart. Trust me on this, okay?”

Nodding again, Steve smiles a little and shrugs. “I think we’ve all learned our lesson about not listening to Joyce Byers.”

“Good,” Joyce says with a light laugh. “Thank you again, Steve. For all of this.”

Steve shakes his head at the thanks immediately, but finds himself wrapped in a tight hug before he can say anything. He hugs Joyce back, shoving his emotions down deep so he won’t make a scene, and releases her after a long moment.

“Any time,” he says softly, smiling again when Joyce squeezes his arm and disappears back into the crowd. 

The night comes to a close slowly, people starting to drift towards the exit as it gets late. Steve stands beside Jonathan as he says his goodbyes to his family, feeling like he’s sending off his own mother and siblings in a way. He hugs El and WIll tight, promising Joyce he’ll still look out for Jonathan even as Jonathan flushes and shuffles his feet in embarrassment. Steve feels his heart swell as Jonathan calls Joyce mama and kisses the top of her head before walking them out to a waiting cab, but he hangs back to allow them to have one last moment just as a family. 

When Jonathan reenters the gallery, it’s empty save for Steve, who’s taking a moment just to look around at the photos. He loosens his tie and turns to smile at Jonathan, finding him already smiling a little as he looks at his own photos. 

“Well?” He asks, looking down at Jonathan when he comes to stand beside him. “You did it. How does it feel?”

Jonathan keeps his emotions hidden most of the time, but Steve thinks he’s getting better at reading how he feels just by looking at him. Right now, though, Steve has no idea what’s going on in his head and it makes him frown a little. He’d done everything he could to make the night perfect for Jonathan, so he can’t figure out why Jonathan has stopped smiling and instead looks a little lost and far away. 

“Did your mom just tell you about the plane tickets?” He asked quickly. “Because I really didn’t want her to, but she swore you must have already known. Fuck,” Steve swears. “Don’t be mad, please. I just really wanted them to be able to be here for you tonight and-”

“Steve,” Jonathan whispers, stopping Steve in his tracks.

“Yeah?” He whispers back, not sure what to expect. 

“Thank you.”

Jonathan has thanked him probably close to a million times since they started planning the show, but this feels different somehow. Still, he replies, “You’re welcome.”

“There’s one piece I didn’t get to display,” Jonathan says seemingly out of nowhere, heading towards the back of the gallery.

Steve follows, confused, as Jonathan pushes open the curtains that separate the main gallery from the area where they’d stored extra framing supplies, ladders, and light bulbs. Jonathan places a soft but stern hand on his chest, stopping Steve before he can follow him into the room. He raises a questioning eyebrow and Jonathan just smiles shyly before disappearing through the heavy drapery. After a long moment, he returns, holding the curtains aside to grant Steve access to the small room.

Under a single bulb is a framed photo of Steve in full color. He’s laughing, one hand reaching out for Jonathan as the other hand brushes a stray piece of hair back behind his ear. The emotions Steve has been pushing down all evening bubble back up to the surface and he looks at Jonathan in wide eyed wonder.

“How did I not see this?” He asks incredulously, making Jonathan laugh softly.

“I hid it from you. I thought that if I put it in the show, it would be a dead giveaway,” Jonathan confesses. “I don’t know if I… if maybe I’m wrong about this-” he starts, but Steve doesn’t give him a chance to finish.

“You’re not,” he says quickly, reaching out with one hand and pulling Jonathan close by his lapel. “You’re really, definitely not,” Steve promises, deciding they’ve done enough talking.

Steve brings his free hand up and cups Jonathan’s jaw, tilting his face up as he leans down. Jonathan’s hands are immediately in his hair, pulling gently in a way that makes Steve crazy before their lips have even met, and then they’re kissing. Jonathan makes a soft sound against Steve’s lips and Steve is just _gone_. He pulls back, still cradling Jonathan’s face as he starts talking again.

“I love you,” he breathes. “Jonathan, I… I’m in love with you. I didn’t want to tell you tonight, because I wanted this to be all about you and your art, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t not tell you because it’s been making me _crazy_ not to tell you,” Steve confesses with a soft laugh. “And I was a little scared you’d hear it from your mom before you heard it from me.”

Jonathan laughs, too, draping his arms around Steve’s neck. “You know, you didn’t have to do all this stuff for me to get in my pants,” he jokes.

“No?”

“Definitely not. I would’ve let you in them that night at the bar,” Jonathan tells him. “It’s probably better this way, though.”

Steve laughs and leans down to kiss Jonathan again before he asks, “Why’s that?”

“Because now it won’t be embarrassing if I say I love you afterward. Or, you know. During,” Jonathan says, his cheeks warm and pink.

Steve can’t stop smiling, his heart swelling in his chest as he replies, “Oh, during, huh?”

“Shut up and take me home, Steve,” Jonathan weakly demands, leaving Steve no choice but to lead him out of the gallery and into a cab towards home.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this for han bc i love her :)
> 
> thank u to em and mia for not ratting me out after i accidentally said i was gonna surprise han w this in the group chat and letting me be soft and gay in peace <3


End file.
